


Question Everything

by oly_chic



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Decepticon Jazz, Decepticon Prowl, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oly_chic/pseuds/oly_chic
Summary: Loyal Decepticons Jazz and Prowl loathe working together, despite leadership's interest in making them do so. They can't stop fighting and one of these orns it's going to cost them. They can only hope it doesn't cost them their lives or time in the Autobot brig.





	1. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Transformers.
> 
> This is based on an animation created by [Vodid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vodid/pseuds/Vodid), found [here](https://vodid.tumblr.com/post/182725068191/brace-yourselves-song-junction-seven-muzzy).

"That's the most foolish plan I've heard," Prowl retorted, his ire with the situation showing with minor flaring of his doorwings, a tight frown, and red optics that glowed extra bright. Not only was he arguing with Jazz, but he was doing it in front of his superior, Soundwave.

"It's a fantastic plan," Jazz rebutted, his red visor glinting in the bright lights.

"That's not a counter-argument. Where are your facts to back up your claim?"

"Where's yours?" Jazz taunted. He knew how that would rile him up. Jazz loved to see the stoic pain-in-the-aft lose his cool, for what little he ever did. Jazz's disdain for the tactician knew no bounds, save the tiny bit of respect when Prowl developed a Special Ops plan that Jazz could approve. Few tacticians could build a plan he appreciated on the first or second try.

Prowl's doorwings flared out a little further, but his response was cut off by Soundwave. "That is enough," he interrupted. "Jazz's plan has merit, and Prowl you will work with him completely to make sure it remains tactically sound."

Prowl's optics slightly narrowed for a klik before smoothing his expression into a neutral one. "Sir? What do you mean by 'completely'? Of course I'll work with him to set up a tactically-sound plan, if that's what you mean."

"You will set up a plan that you can both agree upon, and then both of you will carry it out."

"What?!" Jazz objected. Prowl may have issues with behavior disrespecting of authority, but Jazz didn't so much. "He hasn't been in the field since his second promotion. He'll be too much of a risk factor for me."

"Jazz, if you cannot handle risk, then perhaps you're the wrong mech to be second-in-command of Special Ops," Soundwave warned. Jazz muttered something too low to be understood, and Soundwave ignored him. "You will work on it now. Do not provide me with the details until you've reach a plan you can agree upon."

Jazz waited until Soundwave was out of the room before vehemently glaring at Prowl. "I bet you can't wait until you can spat all over my plans."

"Sneaking into the Autobots' second largest energon reserve and setting up a secret entryway for a full-scale attack is foolhardy and I don't approve it. They may not be the same level of warriors as us, but they will have put some of their most formable guards there."

"You're no warrior, either; you're a desk jockey."

"I am what I need to be," Prowl replied coolly. "Now if I must attend your plan's execution, I _will_ make it foolproof. Come to my office and we'll work out the details."

"Let's go to my office, where the offline Special Ops data is." Jazz wouldn't obey Prowl so easily.

"My office has access to all the tactical data we need." Prowl wasn't going to give into Jazz. "You can bring the offline data to me. Work in my office without any more fuss, and I won't report you for keeping data to yourself. You are trained to know better."

Jazz quietly hissed. "You are the worst. You manipulate everyone."

"I'm a tactician. It's my job to make sure all the pieces - mechs, defenses, and artillery - are where they are needed, when they are needed."

"Mechs are pieces? I can't wait to get promoted and have nothing to do with you," Jazz stated.

"The same goes for me. Let's get this over with."

The pair split to head to their offices, both in a huff. They didn't speak to each other until they were settled in their seats in Prowl's cramped office. Jazz's contempt was barely hidden, while Prowl kept his facial and body expressions neutral. He would not give into Jazz's attempt to anger him again.

"I get to pick the team," Jazz opened.

Prowl considered his statement. "I'm sure that offline data has to do with personnel data that leaves me unfamiliar with skillsets. You may pick them and I will crosscheck each one to make sure they pose no threats to the plan."

"You better believe me they'll be fine."

"Regardless if I do or don't, I will draft up the plan outline while you draft the team. Afterwards you'll hand me the data and I'll customize the plan to selected skillsets. Then I will hand it over to you for your review."

"Fine." They worked in silence, until Jazz announced he was done first.

"You can't possibly be done."

"I know my mechs that well," Jazz smugly replied. He beat out the famous tac-net of one of the Decepticon's best tacticians, their Tactical second-in-command.

"Give me the names and your reasoning."

"Barricade, Frenzy, and Breakdown."

Prowl hated it. "I'm looking forward to knowing your reasoning for that team, as well as why you believe Soundwave would allow Frenzy to part take in this reckless plan."

"First, Soundwave has already given this plan his blessing, so you can stop trying to convince anyone it's idiotic. Secondly, Soundwave will allow it because Frenzy's been itching for more work, especially in my department.

"Barricade is a good scout in foreign lands. Frenzy can set the explosion devices with a long range detonator so we can detonate them when we're ready to attack, and Breakdown in case it all goes to the Pit. He can serve as lookout until that happens, should it happen."

"I see. I'll determine the plan's feasibility." It took a little effort but Prowl made it work, as an attempt to stop fighting. There was only so much interaction with Jazz he could handle before the helmaches came, and he could feel the beginnings of one.

He sent a link to the server file to Jazz. "Study this on your own and send me your notes."

Jazz could see that look of faint annoyance in Prowl's optics. He would happily leave Prowl's side with something he could tear apart - for the safety of his team, of course. "I hope this doesn't disappoint."

"It won't," Prowl promised as he turned to his terminal, signaling his intent to ignore Jazz.

Jazz was fine with that, ready to do his part to make everyone safe. At his office he read the proposal, fully intending to destroy it. However, he was loathed to say it was good for an 85% confidence rate of success. That was within the Decepticon's allowance for planned missions, and he didn't see a way to increase the confidence rate. This was why he had some meager level of respect for a colleague he couldn't stand.

Rather than tell Prowl any of that, he sent a communication that simply read, "Approved." He needed some time away from all things that reminded him of Prowl, so he sent notifications out to his future teammates about a briefing during their next shifts, and then logged off. Time to recover from spending so much time with someone in his Top Ten of most disliked mechs.

Jazz sauntered to the Rec Room. Although he was high in rank, he didn't act like it when he was off-duty. This was his time, and Jazz would not hang out in the Officers Lounge. It lacked the social atmosphere he craved.

He immediately spied a lone and downcast red Iacon Decepticon in the back corner. Jazz identified him as Hops, one of the newer recruits. The self-appointed morale booster headed straight for him.

“Hey, my mech, what’s up?” he greeted.

Hops snapped his helm up. “N-n-nothing, sir.”

This one was clearly easily startled by someone of Jazz’s rank talking to him. No matter, Jazz was used to that by now. It never deterred him from trying. “What’s got you down?” he asked as he sat, folding his hands on the table.

“It’s nothing, sir.”

“You can drop the ‘sir’ for the moment. I’m just talking to you, seeing what’s up – and there’s clearly something up. You can tell me, I swear I won’t report you. So long as it isn’t something like you worrying about a bomb you planted in the barracks,” Jazz joked.

“I swear it’s nothing like that, si – Jazz. I’m just worried I don’t understand the Decepticons well enough. I know we’re supposed to be freedom fighters, but don’t we sort of…” he hesitated. “… Don’t we sort of oppress others? Especially neutrals and other species?”

“Of course Decepticons are freedom fighters!” Jazz exclaimed. “We don’t oppress; we liberate by taking away problems. I know it sometimes looks like oppression, but that’s because problems are being suppressed and others don’t know how to – yet – handle it. They get used to living with their problems, and we come along and take away those problems, and now they don’t know how to act or think. Sure, we’ve got our bad seeds, but Megatron knocks them all back in line. Even the most screwed up ones are being addressed.”

As Special Ops, Jazz had seen firsthand how well the Decepticons worked to achieve goals. While he didn’t work with the masses, he was sure the Decepticons were largely still the same as they were when he joined. Decepticons were freedom fighters that took care of their own, he was sure of it. They took care of their own and they passed it on to those that came under their domain. Autobots were the problem, wanting to resume life like it was with the skewered and oppressive regime of the Senate.

He leaned in, and Hops leaned in, too. “I can tell you all kinds of stories of how I know Decepticons are the good ones.”

“Really? I’d love to hear them.” With Hops interested in his stories, Jazz launched into tales of Decepticons that he knew cared, and how in the early orns they were concerned about him and his right to live the way he wanted to live. There was no doubt in his mind that his memories weren't wrong, that the Decepticons were in the right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are a bit shorter than I normally write, but that’s the way it worked out.


	2. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 2

The five of them neared the Autobot mining site well within Autobot territory, four of them driving fast on the hilly metal roads, with the fifth riding on Jazz. They drove in silence as they were entered enemy territory, and Jazz used the time to internally consider all possibilities that could go wrong with having an inexperienced tactician on his team. He didn't understand Soundwave's logic was for this move, but whatever a superior wanted, the superior got.

His tracking systems beeped at him, signaling the mine was on the other side. They transformed and moved off to the side of the road, creeping along the edge of the hill’s side road until a broken piece allowed them to see the mine's entrance.

"Everyone still good with the plan?" Jazz whispered, expecting only agreement.

"Yup," came the chorus of the four Jazz selected.

"Yes," Prowl wirily agreed, knowing the plan and its adaptability better than Jazz. If one of Jazz's crew failed, he could adapt and rescue the team. Surely that would put him above Jazz in Soundwave's optics.

"Then Barricade, you know what to do."

The scout began his search, returning after a full joor later to report out. "There is a partial opening near the back, behind their guards. If we distract them and find a way to empty the mine, then Frenzy can pummel our way inside without anyone noticing."

"Alright, Prowl, you had all the contingencies in place." Jazz turned to the tactician. "I'm thinking gas leak that makes energy-based harvesting equipment dangerous."

"That is most agreeable. It will require all Autobots to clear out for safety, the guards will move to keep the miners calm, thus preventing anyone from noticing the sensations and sounds of Frenzy's pile drivers."

"And how are we going to make their gas leak?" Frenzy challenged.

"Prowl will provide Barricade with the contingency plan's details so he can sabotage the gas line. The rest of you will continue to wait until Barricade gets back, and then we'll get into position. From there we'll start when the Autobots empty out the mine."

There was a small part of Prowl that resented Jazz giving him orders, but he knew Jazz had ultimate authority on this mission. He did as instructed without argument, despite believing everyone should follow Barricade to a safe location near the gas line.

Barricade left and returned, leading all but Breakdown along a path that bypassed Autobot scouting routes. They kept moving and were nearly in position when the mine began to empty.

"Slag," Jazz hissed. "Move faster."

They hustled as fast as they could, and Frenzy immediately began his task once they arrived. Jazz reminded Barricade to keep lookout from where he could see the front of the mines.

"No one seems to have noticed," Barricade reported as Frenzy finished.

"Good, everyone but Barricade inside. Barricade, keep doing what you're doing."

The hole was small but manageable for everyone to get through. Even Prowl made it, although it was snug around his flattened doorwings.

They came out of the hole with raw energon in front of them. "Excellent," Jazz whispered. "Frenzy, get started. Prowl, you put my spare explosives on the raw energon."

"That wasn't part of the plan," Prowl protested. His part of the plan was to keep watch for any stragglers, and Jazz was to work with Frenzy.

"Don't fight me; I'm leader and I get final say in everything," Jazz reminded him. "Seeing this much raw energon, I know we can make this a better explosion and take out more fighters. Just make sure to put the explosives on energon that doesn't look like they'll harvest any time soon."

Prowl reluctantly took the explosives and did as told - for a breem. He hailed Jazz over, who was moving in the opposite direction.

"What?" Jazz asked as soon as he was within range.

"I should be searching for remaining Autobots."

"Don't do this, Prowl; don't argue with me here." How he loathed having inexperienced desk jockeys on his missions. Why couldn’t Prowl follow a simple order?

Prowl weighed his options and concluded that making his case was the better option. "I disagree with your plan because it's not tactically the best approach."

"I have Barricade watching from outside. He'll warn us when they come inside. And do you see anyone still in here?" Jazz opened his arms and twisted around, showing off an empty area. He dropped his hands. "No, there's no stinking Autobot here. Get to work."

Prowl ex-vented a little louder, though not too loud. He focused in on his task but before Jazz could walk away there was a sudden large explosion of the energon next to them, and pain seared through their frames as they were thrown against a jagged wall. Autobot yells sounded the alarm.

Frenzy came running back from the far end, firing non-energized ammo as he ran. "Let's go!" He looked at the pair lying on the ground, surviving energon shards lying over their bodies. "You two need to pull yourselves out. I'm not gonna be able to carry you." He tossed the detonator for his bombs at Jazz. "To cover your retreat."

Jazz groaned and searched for the detonator. He found it despite the sections of static in his visor and his left shoulder’s injury limiting his range of motion. "Come on, Prowl, get up." Prowl wasn't moving, so Jazz grabbed him and dragged him out while he was bent over. His left leg was injured as well, the joints too damaged to bear full weight, so he dragged Prowl.

Prowl woke to the pain of his doorwings sliding over energon shards, and his body felt like it was on fire. He could see there were burns and energon shards all over his frame, but there was no time to assess the full damage. "I can get up," he gasped. He pulled his hand free from Jazz and turned over, the motion painful but necessary to stop new shards from digging into his frame. His right doorwing was clearly dislocated and there was something very wrong and painful about his peds.

The attack increased as more Autobots joined the first ones. They were pinned down.

Just when Jazz was ready for a last ditch effort to save himself (and Prowl), he heard the battle cry of Breakdown near the entrance. There was no way Breakdown would make it through, but his attack pulled away enough enemies for Jazz to throw a dud explosive over the remaining raw energon.

"Take cover!" someone yelled from the other side. Jazz took the klik to grab Prowl and hobble out the back hole. Between his gimp leg and Prowl's twisted peds, they weren't moving fast. Halfway through the hole he hit the detonator to cover their retreat. The explosion of gas and raw energon was intense and far reaching, knocking them down. The tips of the blast touched their armor, but the burns were not severe.

Both of them still managed to make it outside. They discovered their teammates taking heavy fire, and at a glance they could see Breakdown was being driven back.

Barricade shouted, "You two look like slag! We need to drive. Can you two do that?"

Jazz gritted his dentae and started shooting, as did Prowl. "Not exactly, but we can fall back and then go around."

"I'm not dying for these two," Frenzy said. "Let them fall back. Barricade, you drive, and I'll shoot from on top of you."

"Wait!" Jazz commanded.

"Don't you dare leave your superiors!" Prowl tried. It was for naught as their "teammates" took off, blazing a trail the other two could not follow.

Jazz yanked Prowl backward as he shot, the two stumbling as they made a retreat further into Autobot territory while Frenzy and Barricade distracted their enemies. Jazz and Prowl dipped down from view, nearly tripping over the downward slow and damaged structures.

Although their luck didn't favoring them overall, they were lucky enough to not be immediately followed. They knew it was a matter of time, but they also had to sit down and get off their injured legs so they could assess their situation.

Jazz started with tallying ammo, while Prowl started with tactical situation. For Prowl it was an easy assessment. "We're in enemy territory, with a large group of Autobots in front of us and neither of us can move quick enough to get around them to Decepticon territory before they come after us."

"I understand our situation, Prowl. I'm also half-blind with static, my left side is messed up, I only have half my ammo, I’m nearly out of explosives, you’re probably one-third out of your ammo, and you and I each have an energon supply of five orns. That's if we consume the bare minimum."

"We'll have to go further into Autobot territory and take a route they won't consider." Prowl looked around, spotting bits and pieces of terrain beyond the old buildings. "Based on what limited data I observe, we'll have to retreat far and go around in a zigzag sort of pattern. In our conditions, I anticipate it being at least five orns. Also given our conditions, our frames will likely demand higher energon consumption rates."

"I hate Frenzy and everyone else,” Jazz said simply. What he felt about being left behind wasn’t nearly as simple. Angry, betrayed, hurt, confused; those were some of the emotions twisted inside of him as he tried grasping how this could happen. No one had ever left him behind, and vice versa. “Where do we go?"

"Help me get past these buildings blocking my view and I will let you know an exact starting path."

Jazz carefully pulled himself up and bent down awkwardly to help Prowl. Together they held onto each other and worked on timing their steps until they synchronized.

After they were on the other side of the buildings, Prowl looked around to fully observe. He nodded to his left. "That direction has the best line of cover, following the abandoned homes. Given our location in Autobot territory, they are unlikely to be inhabited by scouts or snipers. Their upkeep is too poor to be occupied by civilians."

"Great, we have a direction and I can barely see it. How do we get there?"

Prowl pressed his lips. "We work together."

Jazz groaned. "That's not what I wanted to hear."


	3. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 3

Their walking synced and fell out of sync so many times as they moved to the line of houses that they became fed-up with the other by the time they made it to the first house. It took all of his strength for Jazz to not drop Prowl. Of course something as simple as walking wouldn't be easy with him.

Prowl's frustration manifested as near silent treatment. When Jazz did talk, Prowl gave short instructions to the partially-blind mech. If he could, he would be completely silent, but that was dangerously petty.

Jazz let Prowl down slowly, and Prowl sat down as gracefully as his injured body allowed. The saboteur was feeling too antsy and frustrated to sit. "I'm going to sweep the area."

"You are too injured to do that at a reasonable speed."

"It needs to be done."

"You'll waste valuable energy," Prowl warned.

Jazz pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We should take a _tactical_ risk of not surveying our position in favor of not going hungry."

"That's not the issue and you know it," Prowl suddenly snapped. He in-vented and calmed down. "It's not a matter of hunger; it's a matter of becoming so weak with unrepaired injuries that you can't move, or you keep going until you're in stasis lock."

"So we're damned if we do, and damned if we don't."

"That is the general summary of our current situation." Prowl kept his composer this time.

"Please tell me that oh-so-great tac-net of yours has a plan."

"Actually... after I assessed we had a minimum of five orns for travel, I put it to sleep to reduce energy demands."

"You what?" Jazz cycled his optics behind his visor.

"I said I have my tac-net in a low-power mode. It can start back up fairly quickly if we need it."

"We need it now. How are we going to map out our best route?"

"I am a trained tactician," Prowl stiffly replied. "I can plan a simple escape route."

"Even in enemy territory?"

"Yes, even in enemy territory."

Jazz understood the logic in Prowl's decision and how it might save him from limping about with a stasis-locked Prowl. _He_ wasn't the kind to leave a teammate behind, but he wasn't happy with the prospect of the tac-net not being instantly available in Autobot territory.

He mulled over that new information and Prowl's point about energy levels spent unwisely. "I'm going to that building and doing a general visual sweep," he compromised by going to the closest, tallest building. "That won't demand much energy."

"That is acceptable. I will wait for your report out."

"I - never mind. I'll tell you what I know so we can 'storm up an idea." Jazz forewent arguing about how he didn’t report to Prowl, thus wasting time by arguing, and went straight to the building. During his climb up the stairs he struggled, as the pain grew from his efforts. When he got to the roof he fought to not crawl from the pain in his leg. There were no threats in sight, even as he scanned around to cover the blind static spots. There was no movement at all, except for a light breeze affecting the dust on the roof. Not even signs of his former teammates rethinking their actions and trying to rescue them.

No, he wouldn’t go there. He couldn’t go there, when his survival depended on his focus.

Jazz waited until the pain subsided to move down the staircase and walk again. At least down was easier than up. He reached Prowl and was greeted with a cold response.

"That took you long enough."

"Don't tempt me to leave you, Prowl." It was a lie, and one that instantly turned to ash in his mouth, damn his ethics. He'd go into stasis before going back on his personal promise.

Prowl narrowed his optics. "You wouldn't survive without me."

That was probably true. "Let's not find out. What I saw was an empty field. There's no one coming - not yet, anyways."

"Sit down and rest for a breem, and then we'll keep going."

"Is that a command?" Jazz raised an optic ridge beneath his visor.

"You know that I have no command over you in this arrangement. That's the problem that started this all." The words were out of his mouth before Prowl could bite them back.

Jazz quickly sat on the ground and leaned into Prowl. "You want to say that again?"

He should quit while there was an opportunity. "If you had at least followed the original plan and kept my role of lookout inside the mine, this would not have happened." Apparently without his tac-net he was more prone to an outspoken temperament regarding following strategic plans.

"You so did not say that." Jazz was thoroughly irked. "We needed to set up a big explosion, and we needed to execute it quickly. It didn't work out, but not because I don't know how to plan."

Really, he should stop. "Your planning was incompatible with the objective."

Now Jazz wanted to throttle Prowl. "My planning was excellent and would have worked if you hadn't interrupted me. Now shut up, we've got to move again. Like you said, we've got at least five orns of travel in front of us, and probably less than that in rations." The energon rushing to his helm was a reminder that he would soon have to take a ration to keep from passing out. He was too stubborn to take it now.

“We’ll have to keep walking together.”

That was displeasing. “I have a basic field kit, with a few additions. Maybe I can patch us up enough to walk without having to lean on each other.”

“That would be preferable.” Being touched by someone unfamiliar to him was never a joy to Prowl, or any typical Praxian. Jazz especially fell under the no-touch category, despite some familiarity. Still, he wasn’t about to sacrifice his health over preferences.

Jazz started with himself, trying to make enough repairs that he could repair another mech. He removed all the shards that were sticking out, some remaining in his armor because they were too imbedded. His leg was patched up enough that he could walk on his own, so long as he managed the pain. His shoulder gained back some of his range of motion.

Prowl was a different story. His peds were too mangled for field work repairs. They got a good portion of the shards out and fixed the dislocated doorwing. Try as he might, he couldn’t walk by himself. All of Jazz’s effort to make sure Prowl didn’t need him were unsuccessful.

“Guess we’re doing this anyways,” Jazz grumbled as he looped his arm around Prowl.

“I suppose so. This time try syncing up with my steps. I obviously can’t sync up with yours.”

Together they moved as far as possible, until Prowl nearly fell from exhaustion and overspent systems. Jazz didn’t fare much better, but he managed to hide his situation. “Are you really stopping now?”

“I need to stop. My frame has a higher demand for energon than yours, and I need it now or else I may go into stasis.” Prowl removed his arm and sat down, sliding along Jazz’s arm for a klik before the saboteur moved it. He drank his ration, fully intending to drink only half of it. His frame demanded otherwise, and before he realized it, he finished off the ration.

The energon splashed in his tank, and though it was cold, it felt good. His body was satisfied enough that it beckoned him into recharge so it could heal at a faster rate. His optics cycled rapidly and he sank sideways to the ground.

Jazz darted forward to stop Prowl. “No, no, no. Prowl, don’t do this to me. Don’t go into recharge.”

Prowl mumbled incoherently and was offline.


	4. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream sequence is meant to more closely match Vodid’s [animation](https://vodid.tumblr.com/post/182725068191/brace-yourselves-song-junction-seven-muzzy).

_The blue corridor to the interrogation room was already long, but its length seemed longer, courtesy of the one Prowl would share the upcoming interrogation. He heavily disliked Jazz but the mech did a good job. Sometimes too good._

_They were to interrogate an Autobot, named Mirage. He was a young Special Ops agent, and one that may have vital information on Autobot supplies. They weren’t certain what information he had, but he did have freshly processed energon on him when they searched his subspace pockets. It was so fresh he had to have come straight from a fully equipped mine or processing plant._

_“I’ve got this,” Jazz said._

_“We’ve ‘got this,’” Prowl corrected. “I’m sure you’ll get carried away and put him in a state that he can’t answer. I’ll keep you in line.”_

_Jazz halted and held up his hand to say stop. “Oh Pit no, I will not overdo it and you won’t keep me in line. Don’t accuse me of being bad at my job.”_

_“Then prove me wrong.” Prowl pushed passed him. Prowl expected Jazz to easily meet the challenge, but there was nothing wrong with making it._

_They entered the room and saw Mirage suspended in the middle of the room. His peds scrapped the ground, and there was spilled energon. The interrogators before them had blooded Mirage, but mostly superficially._

_“Well, well, what have we got here?” Jazz said with a mischievous grin._

_“It seems we have a future Autobot traitor,” Prowl replied, a smile just big enough to show off his fangs. Prowl knew the role he needed to play._

_“I’ll never betray the Autobots,” Mirage stiffly replied. “I won’t bend to whatever you do to me.”_

_“You’ll talk to me, pretty one,” Jazz said as he grabbed Mirage by the sides, his claws coming out to dig into Mirage’s seams. He pushed Mirage into a soft swing, his claws staying in Mirage’s seams the whole time. “They always do, especially the junior agents like you.”_

_“Never,” Mirage argued, the slight twitch of his mouth indicating he was fighting grimacing._

_Prowl joined Jazz and exposed his own claws. He tapped the side of his jaw as if contemplating what to do, but really it was meant as a mild threat. “Never say never. You haven’t spent time with us. You may have resisted the other interrogators, but not us.”_

_“All you Decepticon interrogators are the same. You come in and spew fearful words, and then you’ll rough me up. I haven’t talked yet, and I won’t talk now.”_

_Jazz twisted Mirage, digging his claws in deeper and Mirage finally grimaced. “Oh please, pretty one, I’m not one to say a couple of threatening words and then punch you until I get frustrated. Neither is he,” Jazz said as he tilted his helm towards Prowl._

_Prowl added, “When you tell us where you got the fresh energon, we’ll stop. Until then, we have other tactics besides brute force.” For good measure Prowl ran his claws down Mirage’s face, lightly scraping the paint off. He then backed off; Jazz was usually the hand that distressed their prisoner’s body, and Prowl was the words that haunted their minds._

“Prowl, wake the Pit up!”

Prowl woke with a startled cry. What happened? Where was he? Right, he was behind enemy lines in poor health. Prowl cycled his optics and they focused on Jazz’s visor, which was too close. Prowl pulled away. “Has anything happened?”

“You passed out on me for a breem.”

“The energon… it caused my repair systems to force me into recharge so they could manage repairs faster,” Prowl explained, hoping that was enough to avoid further embarrassment. He certainly felt it, his systems flush, and hoped Jazz wouldn’t rub it in.

“Don’t tell me that. Does that mean every time you have energon that you’re going to pass out on me?”

“It’s doubtful,” Prowl answered, although he knew it was a realistic risk. Maybe not literally every time, but potentially the first few times. At least Jazz hadn’t yet made fun of him for it. “Do you need a moment to consume your energon ration?”

While he had intended to travel as far as possible before having his energon, they were already taking a break. He sat down and pulled out his ration. “Yeah, I guess so. I'm surprised you care.”

“I don’t care for any friendly reasons; I am merely concerned that my only teammate does not fall into stasis.”

Jazz harshly laughed. “Nice to see you be honest for a change, instead of trying to mask how you really think of us as pawns.”

Prowl frowned. “I don’t think of anyone as pawns.”

“You called us pieces earlier.”

For some reason it bothered him that Jazz must have thought him sparkless. “I can’t think of mechs as mechs. If I do, I can’t do my job. How can I send mechs into battle or on dangerous missions if I give them individuality, knowing not all will come back? Don’t you understand when you send your agents on a mission?”

Jazz pressed his lips. “Maybe I do a little bit, but it’s hard for me to not think of them as individuals when I go through mission candidates. If I don’t, then how do I pick the best team to give them their best chance?”

"I see we look at the same mission differently." For some reason Prowl was saddened to know that they differed even in that aspect. They were so dissimilar in all approaches; there was no way they could agree on how to get across territory lines. That was his situation, though, so he would make do to the best of his abilities. "Drink your energon and then we'll resume following the plan."

"Right, finding the quickest path that isn't also the most obvious. Not exactly an easy plan in uncharted territory." Jazz drank his energon.

"Do you have a better plan?"

"Nope, no I do not, tactician. That's what sucks." Jazz wished he had a better plan, and not only to show Prowl up. "Ready to go?"

"Yes," Prowl replied. There was no point in mentioning his health made it impossible for him to be ready for anything. He lifted his hand up as Jazz stood up, loathed to admit that he was helpless without Jazz.

Jazz obliged and carefully lifted Prowl. "I guess this means you can't get rid of me."

"Unfortunately," Prowl replied dryly.

"Was that a joke? I guess it takes injuring you to get a sense of humor knocked into you. Good to know, for future reference. I can't get rid of you either, because I need you to be my visor."

"You'll be my legs, and I'll be your visor. I can accept that deal." In some strange way it was nice to be needed for a reason that didn't involve sending someone to their death. Prowl quickly dashed that thought away. He was not going to sentimentalize spending time with Jazz.


	5. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 5

Finding the quickest path that wasn’t also the most obvious took them further into Autobot territory, in large part because of Prowl. Their forced path was the only path the crippled tactician could handle that wouldn't also be easily discovered by surveying Autobots, undoubtedly out there somewhere.

“It’ll be dark soon,” Jazz observed.

“I’m aware.” Prowl didn’t know why Jazz would say such an inane comment.

“Jeez, sorry for making conversation.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t one for small talk to the point he didn’t even recognize it anymore. It has been a long time since anyone had tried.

They walked for a few more breems until Jazz said, “It’s getting cold.”

“Then turn up your internal heater.” Prowl’s system had done it automatically.

Jazz pressed his lips. “It’s offline. Repairs haven’t fixed it.”

“Perhaps it won’t get too cold for you so that you can keep going.”

“Let’s hope so.”

They kept walking until a joor after the sun was completely down, when Jazz shivered. Prowl stopped them. “You’re cold to the point it’s impacting your functions,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I can keep going.”

“The temperature is decreasing at a steady rate, based on my heater’s constant setting adjustments. You’ll keep getting colder.”

“Oh well,” Jazz shrugged. “What are we going to do about it?”

“We’ll take shelter and find something warm. Perhaps a discarded blanket.” Prowl looked around but wasn’t sure if these houses even still had possessions.

“I don’t want to stop and take shelter,” Jazz complained. “We need to keep going.”

“And risk you freezing?” Prowl asked rhetorically.

Jazz grumbled. “Fine, but I take first watch once we’ve figured this out.”

They slowly searched a few homes but found nothing. Prowl frowned. “We can’t keep searching at our pace.”

“What do you propose?” He was now shivering semi-regularly.

Prowl only had one idea. “I can boot up my tac-net long enough to have it provide a solution.”

“How much energy is that going to cost you?”

“If a solution is found quickly, then not much.” It wasn’t too much of a lie. The startup would consume the most energy, but it wasn’t a terribly large consumption. If he only booted it up partially, then it really wouldn’t be much.

“I guess let’s do it. I’m not eager to have my systems freeze.”

Prowl partly booted up his tac-net. The solution it found was quick, and Prowl immediately detested it. “The first solution is not optimal. I’ll keep it on until it finds one that is.”

“Tell me what the first solution is.”

“It says for me to turn up my heater and stay in very close proximity to you so that it radiates heat even to you.”

Jazz scowled. “By ‘very close proximity,’ you mean armor-to-armor contact.”

“Unfortunately yes.”

He shivered. “Let’s keep looking for a different solution.”

The tac-net kept returning four solutions: use Prowl’s heater, search until they found a blanket, search until they found something that could be used like a blanket, or find something that could be turned into a working heater. However, the last three had low odds and would likely waste critical time.

Prowl frowned again. “It won’t find a reasonable solution.”

“Oh come on; we are not cuddling for warmth. That’s just _so_ not going to happen.”

“There appears to be no other real option. Trust me, I am no more enthusiastic about it than you are.”

Jazz’s scowl returned. “Primus damn it. Fine, let’s get this over with and never speak of it.”

Prowl knew it was possible they’d have to do this every night until Jazz’s heater worked again, or so his tac-net projected based on the current weather. It started delving into more calculations about the option they selected, but he put his tac-net back to sleep. “I suggest we refrain from getting too comfortable.”

“I’m not cuddling your chassis and you aren’t cuddling mine. Let’s lay back-to-back.”

“That may not work, since my heater is not in my back.”

“Let’s just try it, okay?” Jazz pleaded.

Jazz set Prowl down on the least filthy spot in the house. They arranged themselves so they were curled back-to-back. Prowl cranked up his heater to max levels in hopes it would be enough for this arrangement.

A realization came to him. Prowl couldn’t believe it was overlooked, but then he had cut his tac-net’s activities short. “This is going to demand more energy from me.”

Jazz groaned. “We’ll deal with that problem in the morning. Right now let’s just try to keep me from freezing and putting you in the position of crawling around Autobot territory with my frozen body.”

Both hoped the back-to-back would work but when Jazz’s shivered for the umpteenth time, Prowl couldn’t stand it any longer. He was wasting energy to no benefit. “It’s not working.”

“Y-y-yes it is.”

“No it’s not.” Prowl turned around. “Turn around and wrap yourself around my bumper.”

“I’m not turning around,” Jazz insisted.

“Most of your systems are in your chassis; therefore you need to face me to warm them up.”

“Primus damn it,” Jazz cursed again. He flipped over. “Never ever will you or I say one word about this.”

“Never.”

Jazz moved his body until he was curled up around Prowl’s upper frame, his helm resting by Prowl’s shoulder, his neck awkwardly craned. Prowl rested his arm on his own torso side. He wouldn’t put his arm on Jazz and further cuddle him. Not this time and never any other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s right, it’s the “one blanket” trope, Transformers style. I’m throwing tropes inside of tropes. Also, this probably counts as hate-cuddling, or something close to it.


	6. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I’m aiming to get to Chapter 9 soon (because reasons), so for the next couple of weeks I’ll be posting a little faster. I figure this way I can post Chapter 9 during my vacation by saving it for later - assuming that function works. *Cross fingers*

Neither really fell into recharge, despite Jazz bickering with Prowl to get some recharge after ten breems. Prowl had no intention of recharging since the risks weighed too heavily on his mind, and Jazz felt too obstinate after their fighting to recharge when it was his turn.

When the morning warmed up enough that Jazz’s extremities felt comfortable, he sprang away from Prowl. “I’m good.”

Prowl didn’t reply, unsure what to say. Having some jump away from him hurt, but he understood Jazz’s feelings.

“Let’s get going.”

“We need to reconsider our plans. Instead of heading as directly as possible to Decepticon territory, we’ll need to search for energon left behind,” Prowl explained, focusing on that instead of his feelings.

Jazz’s optics widened beneath his visor. “You want to search for old energon? It might be worthless. How can we waste time doing that?”

“Given this path we’re walking, I won’t make it at our rate, and you likely won’t either,” Prowl pointed out. “I’ll also need to use a ration by this afternoon, perhaps evening at the absolute latest, based on my systems’ performance decline.”

Jazz cursed. “I’m okay for now, but I'll have to have a ration by late evening. Maybe my heater will be repaired enough to kick on by night. Hopefully it’s not cold like it was last night.”

Prowl recalled the high odds that it would be cold, but for Jazz’s sake of mind he said nothing about it. “Let's search homes for energon that don’t look too ravished by scavengers. Is that a reasonable compromise?”

“I guess so, if we have to.”

“As I pointed out, we must.”

They resumed walking but this time they stopped every so often to search a house. They weren’t having any luck. Jazz said as much after their sixth search. “We’re such an unlucky pair. Left behind, forced even further behind, injured, and no recoverable energon. What’s next, an Autobot scout wondering by?”

“Don’t jinx us.”

Jazz raised an optic ridge. “Didn’t think you were the kind to believe in that sort of stuff.”

Prowl squinted at the next house up. “I didn’t until my second promotion. After witnessing a few unfortunate coincidental incidents, I started to wonder.”

“If you and I are on speaking terms after this, then you’ve got to tell me the stories.”

Prowl pondered why they wouldn’t be on speaking terms, unless Jazz felt so traumatized by curling up around Prowl’s frame that the thought of non-work related activities was too much. They never had a non-work related conversation, but it wasn't because they weren't on speaking terms. Not exactly, anyways. He was insulted, and his face burned. “I suppose we’ll see,” he answered cryptically.

They kept searching and at their eighth house they found a medium-sized container of energon left behind. Both restrained themselves from celebrating because there was no telling if it was any good.

The initial examination with Jazz’s energon testing tool showed it was okay, it barely stirring the top of the energon within the container. Prowl drank first, as his systems had slowed down more than Jazz’s. After he had a few small sips, Jazz asked, "Well?"

"It seems to have lost most of its potency," Prowl answered with disappointment. For the amount of energon now in his tank, the effects were minimal. Perhaps that wasn't a terrible thing, if it was the difference that kept his systems from forcing him into recharge.

He handed the cup to Jazz. "Here."

Jazz waved him off. "I'm okay for now, and you are so not okay. You need it more than me."

"You still need something."

Jazz pushed back. "I'll be fine. This isn't something worth fighting over. It's too small to make much of a difference for me, but it might make enough of a difference for you."

"You are _not_ fine enough." His frustration with Jazz's stubbornness was growing. "I'm not going to fight you on this, Jazz. You need at least a third of this. Here," he said as he thrust the cup into Jazz's outstretched hand. "Take it and drink."

Jazz pushed it right back into Prowl's hands. " _You_ take it and drink. Drink the whole thing. And if you don't have some more right now, I'll let you know how annoying I can really be. I know you think me annoying, but you haven't seen anything yet."

Prowl pressed his lips tight. "I'll take some more, and then you take some." Jazz shrugged and Prowl decided to drink in good faith. He had three cups’ worth and then handed it to Jazz.

"Nope, not taking it."

"We had a deal," Prowl replied, his optics narrowing.

"I shrugged, and a shrug is not an agreement."

"I don't need you threatening to annoying me because you're already doing it," Prowl snapped and suddenly he felt woozy. From the weird feeling in his tank, he realized it was the energon. Whatever it was, its effects were delayed.

Unbeknownst to Jazz about Prowl's sudden issue, the saboteur's temper grew equally heated. "I know what you think of me. You think me foolish, and that's why you argued about my plan back when we were in front of Soundwave. That's what you probably think, that I'm not drinking because I'm a fool. You know what, Prowl? Maybe I'm just thinking ahead better than you can do without your tac-net."

"What you define as 'ahead' is misguided, at best." Even woozy, Prowl wasn't going to forfeit.

"Do you understand nothing?" Jazz's temper ran hot. "I'm worried about you, okay? I watch out for my teammates. You are in worse shape than me and you said it didn't have much potency. So to the Pit with it all, you're going to drink every last drop of it because I won't watch a teammate go into stasis - or worse!"

"I don't know if I should drink anymore." Prowl intended to explain himself but a wave of severe dizziness struck.

Jazz threw his hands up in the air. "Here we go again, or rather keep going. Around and around in circles, fighting when you know you need it. Did you even listen to me?"

Prowl didn't answer, collapsing on the floor instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Prowl goes down for a second time. Awkward.


	7. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 7

His training kicked in as soon as Prowl fell. He dropped down to Prowl's level and checked him for signs of new or worsening damage. There were no outward signs of why Prowl crashed.

Jazz looked at the energon and noticed a very faint off-colored mix floating to the top. Whatever it was, Prowl drinking the energon had disturbed it. Jazz smacked his helm, blaming himself for not noticing it.

His first aid kit's extras came with a reverse pump and tube in case of poisoning. Jazz gently rolled Prowl onto his side and opened his mouth, and began feeding the tube down into his tank. He activated the pump and watched it drain the poisoned energon onto the floor.

Prowl woke with a startled cough. He tried turning to face the floor so he could push himself up, but the tube held him captive. Unable to grasp the situation but able to understand that something invasive was in his mouth, Prowl feebly coordinated his movements to pull the tube out.

"Hey, hey," Jazz said as he softly held Prowl's hands still. He rubbed Prowl's palms with his thumbs. "It's okay. Just stay there and keep calm. I need you to stay calm."

Prowl didn't fully hear the words the first time, but Jazz repeated them enough that he understood before he had the strength to fight back. The feeling of his tank being pumped was awful but he only had himself to blame. Drinking uncontrolled energon that much and that fast was a stupid mistake, even with prior sampling.

"That's it, relax," Jazz soothed. The discarded energon flow was slowing down, signaling it was almost done.

Prowl didn't feel like he was relaxing but he told his frame to try. His shoulders and top leg sagged.

"Good," Jazz encouraged.

When it was finally finished, Jazz helped Prowl remove the tube at Prowl's speed. After the tube was pulled completely free Prowl began coughing and hacked up the last drops of energon. "What happened?" he gasped.

"I think the energon was spoiled, or poisoned. Either way, we should not do that again."

He didn't speak for a lengthy breem but when he did, he voiced his concern. "If we don't try again when we come across more energon then we'll likely go into stasis and possibly even deactivate. Or perhaps while in stasis we'll be captured."

"Talk about a rock and a hard place. Next time I'll test the energon. You haven't had such good luck with the substance."

"I would not be opposed to that." Prowl kneeled on all fours. He started to sit up when Jazz put his hand on Prowl's shoulder.

"Maybe you should have some safe energon now, instead of later this afternoon. It'll help dilute any bad energon being processed through your systems."

Prowl un-subspaced a ration. "I hope that even with bad energon into my systems, I won't slow us down any further."

"Don't worry about it. Just take your time and we'll stand when you're sound enough."

"Thank you."

Jazz shrugged and rolled backwards onto his heels. Having Prowl thank him was weird. "Don't mention it."

He thought about his next words as he finished half his ration. "I mean it, Jazz. Without you I may have died. There's no telling what was wrong with that energon and my systems would have processed all of it, if not for you and your quick thinking."

This was getting weirder by the klik. "I said I watch out for my teammates, and you're my teammate. Let's not get carried away here with sentiment."

Prowl nodded. "Of course, let's not get caught up in the moment. It won't last."

"Yeah, as soon as we walk out of Medbay we'll be at each other's vocalizers again."

For whatever it was worth, he was not looking forward struggling to work with Jazz. He kept that thought to himself, and instead he quietly sipped his energon until it was gone.

They resumed following their escape path with the occasional pause to check a house. For better or for worse, they found no more energon. When dusk came and went, Jazz stopped and put Prowl down.

"I need some energon." He needed it bad. Jazz had held out until evening for his ration, and now his systems were running slow and cold. None of that he would tell. There was too much to worry about.

“Good.” Prowl sighed, “and on that note, I should mention I may need a ration soon.”

“What? Why?” Jazz demanded as he held his ration.

“It appears the poisoned energon has damaged my systems further, to the point my repair systems are very demanding.”

He frowned. “I guess if it’s that or stasis, then you have to do it.”

“Yes.” Prowl pulled out his ration and they drank quietly. While he had handled his sipped afternoon ration fine, this one he could feel it beckon him into recharge.

Jazz noticed. “Hey, hey.” He scooted forward and shook Prowl by the shoulders. “Stay with me. You’ve collapsed on me enough times for one trip.”

“I’m trying,” Prowl mumbled.

“Can I do anything to help?”

“Do what you do best…” Prowl trailed off and his optics fluttered.

“What’s that?” He asked as he shook Prowl again.

“Talk.”

Jazz rambled about the Decepticons with topics ranging from Megatron’s greatness to moronic soldiers that didn’t understand Megatron’s principles. Their commander would surely never leave someone behind. He tried engaging Prowl, with hit-and-miss success.

He thought of one more option, and it was something he hadn’t done since before the war. He started singing. “When we were young, I felt your fingers slip through mine…”

The singing worked better than the talking. Prowl’s optics cycled slowly as his piqued interest pulled him out of his sleepy state. Jazz kept singing until he saw clarity in Prowl’s optics, and then he trailed off.

“That was beautiful,” Prowl ex-vented.

“Yeah, well, you’re the only Decepticon who knows I can sing. I prefer to keep it that way.”

“Why?”

Jazz uncomfortably shrugged. “It’s just that certain activities aren’t approved by your average soldier. Joining in a chorus of rough voices praising Megatron is okay, but soloing with your best voice isn’t.”

“How disappointing.” Prowl would have never thought this about his feelings towards Jazz, but he was truly saddened by the idea of Jazz hiding such a wonderful talent.

“Yeah, well that’s the way it is, like so many other things.” Jazz shrugged.

“I never thought you were one to follow rules blindly, even unofficial social ones.”

“Is that a joke about my current predicament?” Jazz not-so-subtly changed topics.

“Hardly. We established I don’t joke.”

“Except when injured, and you’re more injured now than you were last time.” Jazz suddenly shivered. In all his worried efforts of getting Prowl to stay online, he hadn’t noticed how cold it got.

Prowl frowned. “You’re cold again.”

“It’s nothing.”

This was starting to become a repeat scenario. “I know we said to never talk about it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t share warmth without speaking about it.”

“You mean like how we’re talking about it now?” Jazz pointed out.

“Please don’t be obstinate.”

Jazz grumbled. He knew he was in no position to argue. “I guess get comfortable.” This time they curled around each other a little more carefully, Jazz tucking his limbs into Prowl’s frame better. He was a little more comfortable but not entirely so, his helm by Prowl’s shoulder. He thought about how his neck would benefit from resting his helm on Prowl. “Is it okay if I use your shoulder as a pillow? It’ll keep me from getting a crick in my neck again.”

“You may.”

Jazz laid his helm on Prowl’s shoulder and tried not to let the warmth permeating into his whole body make him sleepy. Despite that feeling he wouldn’t sleep on Prowl. Saving Prowl's life didn't make them that comfortable with each other.


	8. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 8

By mid-morning, well after they had gotten up without properly recharging again, they were both silently noticing the effects of sleep deprivation. If they hadn't been suffering individually, they might have noticed each other’s signs. Prowl was stumbling more, Jazz’s injured left side was him slowing down again, and both had their helms hung low and forward. Even Jazz occasionally stumbled when his vision didn’t catch a rock in time for him to step over it.

Prowl was displeased and trying to understand how sleep deprivation was already setting in. This was only their third orn since being left to defend themselves. Mechs could go at least three orns being online without sleep deprivation, and more if they were trained right.

Healthy mechs, he realized. Although he hardly cursed, Prowl began cursing internally at how far-reaching the effects of his injuries were having on him. Maybe he should turn off his repair systems since they weren't doing any good anymore. It wasn't like they could rebuild his peds or remove the shards. By doing that he would reduce his energon consumption.

“Jazz, I need – Jazz? Jazz? Are you listening to me?” Prowl finally noticed Jazz’s state.

“Huh?” Jazz perked up.

“Are you listening to me?” He repeated.

“Of course; you’re hard to tune out when you don’t have your monotone voice going on.”

Was Jazz egging him on into another fight? Surely not, or at least he couldn’t be actively seeking one. Prowl let it slide – this time. “I had another dip in energy levels. I should turn off repairs.”

Jazz stopped cold, jerking Prowl to a stop. “What? No!”

“They are too taxing on my energy reserves and at this point they won’t make much improvement on my health.”

“I whole spark disagree with that idea!”

“I’m not telling you this for your permission, I’m telling this so you know where I stand.” Prowl was not seeking Jazz’s acceptance and intended on doing it regardless of Jazz’s words.

Jazz instinctively tightened his arm around Prowl’s waist, as if it would force Prowl to listen to him. “Just don’t do it, okay? I don’t want to worry about that poison still having an effect on you, and it growing worse. If it does, you won’t notice until the more serious effects kick in, and by then it’ll be too late.”

Prowl was touched that Jazz would worry about him, but he dashed that thought away. Jazz worried because Prowl was his teammate, and Jazz had already said as much about how he felt for teammates. “That's assuming it was poison and not badly spoiled energon. If it were poison, I don’t think it's still active and a noticeable amount.”

“But you don’t know. Seriously, let’s give it at least the rest of this orn and another ration before you think about it.”

“Alright, if it means that much to you.”

Jazz looked Prowl in the face. “It does. Your health does mean that much to me.”

Prowl was thrown off by someone caring about him, and his spark quivered. Even if it was caring for him only as a teammate. He turned away without a word and they resumed walking.

After a few more joors Prowl’s tanks began to urgently ping him for more energon. He looked around for a place to safely and comfortably sit down, only to realize he didn’t recognize the area. It wasn’t what he’d seen earlier when they were looking down on the path.

“I’ll need a ration soon. Let’s have a change of pace and rest on a building top.” He needed to get his bearings again and hopefully correct their path.

“So soon?” Jazz’s optic ridges furrowed underneath his visor.

“As you pointed out, my systems demand more energon because of the damage they took from the poison. Between that and the physical damage, I am holding off on my energon rations to my body’s limits.”

“Right, well that sucks because it’s your fourth one and I haven’t seen Decepticon territory yet.”

That’s because they’re lost, as Prowl knew. “We’ll handle it as best we can.”

Prowl tried to get them to the nearest tall building, an apartment complex, but Jazz held them back. “We’re not walking up a bunch of stairs only to get shot because we’re exposed.”

“Who’s going to look at the building tops?” Prowl really didn’t want to admit their situation.

“Let the field agent make that call, desk jockey.” Jazz instantly regretted his last words. Prowl had done well for a “desk jockey” in their situation.

Prowl frowned. Should he let it slide or not? “If you were the field agent you think you are, then you wouldn’t have changed plans halfway through its execution.” Apparently he would not.

Jazz visor flashed bright. “The change was to speed up a plan we had fallen behind on our timetable.”

“Because you waited too long to move everyone that needed moving.”

“You want to risk it to prove a point that you’re better than me? Fine. Let’s go to the top of that complex.”

The climb was arduous but they made it, and this time Jazz didn’t hurt so bad. More to his credit, he half-carried Prowl the second part of the climb.

“Put me on the edge so I can look over our path.” That wasn’t too suspicious, right?

“Sure, why not make yourself more of a potential target,” Jazz sarcastically responded. He did as asked despite his attitude.

Prowl settled in and slowly drank his energon as he gazed out. Jazz sat at Prowl’s peds and drank his at a casual pace. The tactician focused hard on finding their intended path, but he couldn’t find it. They were truly lost. Before he admitted that he was going to look for an alternative route to offer.

He was near the end of his energon when he finally plotted one out. Did he have to admit it? Would Jazz eventually notice the change? Probably. “Jazz, I must confess something.”

Jazz looked up. “Hmmm?”

“I wanted to be on the top of this building because I realized we were lost. However, I have mapped out a new path that will work,” he hurriedly added.

At first Jazz said nothing. It took him twenty kliks to process how to handle the news. “I forgive you.”

Prowl cycled his optics. That was unexpected. “Thank you?” He didn’t know quite how to handle Jazz so kindly giving him an out. That was so unlike the Jazz he’d known from the moment they met.

He shrugged. “No problem, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” He never thought of Prowl as someone who would trick him, and for that reason he would give Prowl the benefit of the doubt, that it was an honest mistake.

Jazz gulped down the last of his energon. “Ready to lead us down this new path?”

“Yes.” Prowl reached out and Jazz helped him up, the two immediately syncing up with one another this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be slow to respond to comments since I’m taking vacation shortly. Please still leave comments, they make my day! If you leave them today or tomorrow, I have a better chance of finding time before I leave. If you write a comment after that, I will still try to find time to respond (especially during my 5-hour layover -_-).


	9. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting a saved chapter form my phone while on vacation, so I hope this works out right. I may be slow to comments again, but please still comment and make my vacation even more awesome :)
> 
> ALSO, I'm sorry I haven't replied to chapter 8 comments! I swear I will once I access a computer. Answering comments on a cell is difficult :(

Clouds were forming over their helms. Watching the sky, Jazz tentatively asked, “Are you sure we should keep going? We’ll lose cover if it starts to rain.” Acid rain on top of everything else would be fitting.

Prowl looked up. The clouds were ominous. “I am down to one ration and we’re nowhere near our territory. However, I suppose we're far enough away from our territory that sheltering for the rain to pass for safety won’t matter. The last house we passed looked built for rain.”

Jazz frowned. “We’re hurting too bad as it is for a little setback to matter, yeah. Too bad we know it has no spare energon.”

It was no minor setback. After a joor of heavy rain it tapered off, but it was still raining even after another joor.

Jazz started pacing. “I get that this was probably a smart move, not getting caught in the rain and all, but we are getting screwed every breem it rains.”

“Yes, it is screwing us over.” Prowl had his chin in his hand as he sat at a dining table.

He stopped and did a double-take. “Never thought I’d hear you say something like that.”

“I can’t express my frustration in a similar fashion as you?” Prowl airily replied.

Jazz shook his helm. “Didn’t say that. Said I didn’t expect it. You know, if you talked more like me, then maybe we would have gotten along better in the beginning.”

“Perhaps if you thought like me, then we would have become better colleagues.”

“Nah, what would make us good colleagues is if we could work together and see all the angles through our different perspectives, and then talk about the angles in a collaborative way. I don’t know how we’d pull that off, but if we could then we’d make it work.”

“We’ve collaborated,” Prowl pointed out, “just not in a friendly way.”

“Why is that?” Jazz wondered. “How did we get off to such a bad start? Even more so, how did we stay so discontent with each other?”

Prowl recalled when he met Jazz. “Soundwave introduced us and told us to spend time learning about one another. When he left you joked that you thought he was a hard superior to please, and I was angry with you for disrespecting him. I believe that’s what set the tone for when we tried learning about each other, only to learn we had nothing in common.”

“Oh yeah.” Jazz tilted his helm. “We really didn’t find anything we had in common.” After Prowl shook his helm, Jazz suggested, “Maybe we can try again?”

Prowl stared blankly at Jazz. “With what? I told you a bit about my past, and you didn’t like how I was an enforcer.”

Jazz grinned. “Me being a troublemaker for all my life, I don’t like enforcers. I can tell you’re the kind of enforcer that’d never let someone like me go.”

“Actually, I did let a couple of 'troublemakers' go.” Prowl paused. “In two different instances I detained mechs trying to survive by committing petty crimes. I knew arresting them on putting it on record would make finding work nearly impossible. I told them I would not give them another chance if I caught them again, and then I handed them pamphlets on resources for poverty. I checked on them a vorn after our encounter and learned they had risen above poverty status through civil means.”

"Never knew you had that kind of reasonableness in you. The kind of reason I've always seen in you is get the task done no matter what it takes."

Prowl pursed his lips for a klik. "I never acted that way, behaving as if 'no matter what it takes' is the best motto. Now, and then as an enforcer, I think about what makes the most sense to achieve the end goal. Perhaps you may perceive that as no matter what it takes, but sensibility does set limits."

"I guess I misread you," Jazz admitted. Normally he had someone well pinpointed for who they really were. "How did you become a Decepticon? I always figured you did it for some tactical reason."

Prowl leaned back to better look Jazz in the visor. "It depends on how you see it, if you were to call it a tactical or 'spark-felt' decision. One of the two mechs I let go, he came back to visit me two vorns after I caught him. He was a Decepticon, and he wanted to thank me for not following the rules. I asked him why he became a Decepticon and he explained it had to do with seeing the truth, about how the rules were all a game of deception created by high powers of authority."

"And you agreed?" Jazz was surprised and stepped closer to sit down, watching Prowl.

"Not at first. If I had any particular response to his accusations, it was anger at him challenging my way of life. I lived to obey society’s legal rules, as an enforcer."

"You're still an aft for regulations," Jazz pointed out, wondering why Prowl was speaking as if obeying was a past trait of his.

"I am, and I always will be. Rules and regulations are necessary for society to thrive for the greater good. What I started to notice after that meeting was how the existing rules were skewered to benefit the well-off." Prowl shifted his gaze away as his memories replayed. "I began to notice the socioeconomic background of who I was arresting, and how rarely it was someone of credits or power. Then I finally did arrest someone of great wealth and he was released before trial. His lawyer was able to twist the law’s interpretation until it no longer showed any wrong committed.

"When that happened, I contacted the Decepticon from earlier, and asked him to tell me more about the deception of the rules. He showed me how the Decepticons were freedom fighters from oppression."

"And you joined right then and there?"

Prowl shook his helm. "Almost, but instead I became a Decepticon-sympathizer. It was when that same corrupt mech got away committing murder without much ramifications that I joined the Decepticons."

Jazz's chinned turned down as he looked to the ground, thinking about Prowl's story. "I can't imagine how much that must've rocked your world, being an enforcer and seeing the laws you were enforcing so messed with like that."

Prowl shifted. "It was not a nice learning experience, to put it mildly. It effects had an impact and I lost three orns of work, trying to come to terms with what had happened and its proof of a broken society. What about your reason for becoming a Decepticon?"

Jazz looked out the window to gather his thoughts and focus on his story, but he noticed the rain was very light. "Maybe another time. The rain is about to stop and I don't want to waste time telling my story, or have to pause midway."

"I understand." Prowl was very curious how the mech who'd been kind to him a few times now had become a Special Ops agent. He would learn another time, even if that meant talking more casually to one another back on base as comrades that could finally stand one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of debating on making an oneshot of Prowl's story so it can be told in detail. I'm not sure yet.
> 
> Jazz’s story will be told, but it’ll come after some amount of chapters. I do know how long, but no spoilers.


	10. Arc 1: Survival - Chapter 10

They walked as far as their tired bodies could go, slowing further down as dusk turned dark. While searching for a good rock to rest under, as there were no more homes but a field of large rocks surrounding them, Prowl glanced at Jazz. "How's the heater?"

He checked. "Better, as in it's actually working. Let me test how well it's working." Jazz cranked up the heat to the highest setting, but it only produced the lowest setting of heat. He sighed. "Well, it's something."

"Good, you should be ready for your own nights." Prowl calculated he could hold out until morning to have his last energon, but they were too far to call for help in an orn's travel. He knew he would need to convince Jazz to leave him behind beforehand, or else damn his colleague to half speed, if Jazz intended to drag around his stasis-locked body.

Jazz looked at him. "My own nights?"

"Let's see how far we get and we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"You're talking about if/when you go into stasis," Jazz stated. "Let's talk about it when we get there so I can think about my argument first."

Prowl grunted, now looking even less forward to his impending endeavor. "That rock locks sufficient," he commented as he pointed to a tall, leaning rock.

"I'd say so. I've got an idea," Jazz announced. "Let's recharge back-to-back this time, and actually try to get some recharge so we can walk a lot faster in the morning. I'll take first shift." Jazz put down Prowl and watched him get comfortable before settling against his back.

Prowl tried staying online for a few breems to make sure Jazz didn't slip into accidental recharge, but he went straight into recharge once his helm touched ground.

Jazz knew how to stay awake even when his frame beckoned him to get some recharge. His mind never wandered once as he scanned everything, especially the sounds coming from his dark surroundings. He heard the sound of nocturnal animals moving around, and he identified the worst as turbofoxes. At least that was the worst of it until he heard steps on gravel of several much larger animals. The sounds were around them.

Jazz flipped over and put his hand on Prowl's mouth as he gently shook Prowl awake, never taking his optics off his surroundings. Prowl woke up silently, quickly registering the hand. He turned his helm to see Jazz's focused pose. He listened, searching for what Jazz was hearing.

Jazz took away his hand and produced his gun in his right hand, and Prowl followed his lead. It was so dark without any camp lights, and the sounds of large animals were so close. Jazz waited until he heard the first animal come around the rock. Before he registered the outline of the shape, he fired.

The animal howled and the rest howled with it, and suddenly they knew what they were up against: a pack of turbowolves. They started firing at all the shapes fast approaching them.

There were six of the wolves, and their shots wounded four of them. The other two reached them, one knocking the gun out of Jazz's hand and the other smashing into Prowl's torso so his body slammed backwards. Jazz felt the first bite on his shooting arm and he cried out from the searing pain, but his fear turned into rage and he grabbed a knife from subspace. He drove it into the wolf's thick back hide. The stab was weak from his shoulder injury inhibiting him from using his full strength, but it sunk in far enough to wound, and the creature howled.

Prowl took out his own knife as he ducked the first attempt to bite his neck and stabbed the wolf in the leg. It yipped and clamped down on his stabbing arm. Prowl swung his other fist and connected his gun’s handle with the wolf's jaw. The action wrenched its teeth across Prowl's arm, but it did the trick and the animal let go.

Jazz's wolf was not so quickly overcome, despite Jazz's fight to slice open its backside, as it yanked on Jazz's captured arm. Prowl rolled over and sprung from his knees at the wolf, and stabbed it over and over again until it finally let go. The wolves howled and retreated.

Both of them were bleeding, but Jazz more profusely. Prowl grabbed the wound and tried to stop the flow. "Jazz, grab your first aid kit and hand it to me."

Jazz pulled his kit from his subspace and reached across his chassis to drop the bag by Prowl. He groaned. "M'thinking Prowl we should fire our travel agent..."

"Don't try to alleviate the situation with jokes." Prowl worked on Jazz's wound, tightly wrapping the bandages.

Jazz knew he'd lost a lot of energon, based on how much worse his vision became. He would easily need two energon rations, which was all he had left. "Prowl, I'm thinking we might not need to fight about who leaves who behind. I'm not going to reach Decepticon territory with my new injury's energon loss."

Prowl waited until he tied the bandages. "I will need my last ration and it will likely not be enough. I suppose it's now a race to who goes into stasis first."

"Swell, makes sense, given how we've had like zero luck ever since reaching that mine." Jazz flopped back his injured arm, embracing the pain as a sign of being alive despite the odds.

Prowl tugged at him. "Drink your rations now, before it's too late."

Jazz nodded. "Same goes for you." He pulled himself into a sitting position against the rock, and took out his energon. "Cheers, may the least lucky mech go into stasis last. Or first and just get this curse over with; I'm not sure which is better."

"Cheers, I suppose." They drank their rations, finishing off what they had left. Their systems called for them to go into recharge, and Jazz could see it in Prowl's optics.

"Go to recharge, Prowl. I'll wake you when it's time."

"You need recharge, too," Prowl pointed out.

"Someone needs to be online in case those wolves come back."

Prowl pressed his lips but nodded and laid down. He recharged for nearly half the remaining night before Jazz woke him up, desperate to follow the yearning call for recharge. Prowl sat up and listen to the darkness, watching his surroundings as dawn flooded the land. He loathed the idea of making Jazz move, surprisingly more than he loathed walking on his disfigured peds. They had to move, though, if only to avoid the wolves returning again.

"Jazz, wake up," he cajoled. He received a grunt and a dim visor booting up. "We'll move at your own pace."

"I should be saying that to you," Jazz slurred, the words "low energon" broken across his static-laced visor. For whatever it was worth, the warning said low and not critical.

He was alarmed by the slurring in Jazz's voice. "Perhaps we should move a bit faster, beyond our comfort. The closer we get, the better our chances with risking a distress hail."

"No one's coming this deep into Autobot territory," Jazz sully replied. He got up anyways and pushed himself up, wincing at his bad left shoulder and injured right arm. "Let's get this over with."

Prowl didn't speak since he had no encouraging words. They walked as fast as they could stumble until they saw the next line of broken homes, little drops of energon bleeding from Jazz's soaked bandages as they went.

"Let's find a safe house and redo your bandages," Prowl suggested.

"None of these houses are good enough to call safe. They're barely walls and almost no roof. We're in an area that's clearly be hit a few times by bad storms. What do you think are the odds that one's on its way now, to wipe out our stasis-locked forms?"

"Don't talk like that." Prowl tugged at Jazz even though he could not lead. They walked until they were in the center of a house grouping, when Jazz suddenly collapsed and brought Prowl down with him. Jazz landed on his face while Prowl tried to brace himself, only for his injured arm to give way and to land shoulder-first into the dirt.

"M'sorry, Prowl," Jazz groaned, his voice thick with static. "I don't think I'm going any further."

"Then neither am I."

"Don't go into stasis with me on some stupid heroic notion; we aren't even friends enough to have those ideas." Jazz had come to think of Prowl in better terms than he did before the mission, but for Prowl's sake he didn't want him knowing that and acting on it.

Prowl sadly smiled. "I can't walk without you. It's no heroic notion." He rolled Jazz onto his back and laid down on his back, side-by-side. "You never did tell me why you became a Decepticon."

"Does it matter now?"

"I'd like to hear it. Even if it's the last thing I ever hear, I'm sure it'll be interesting."

"Way to make stasis even more depressing, Prowl," Jazz darkly chuckled. "Just give me a breem to think. It's getting a bit foggy in here."

His first thoughts were alarmed by Jazz's words, but there was enough fog setting into his own mind that his worry didn't last long. "Whenever you're ready."

Jazz's answer didn't come. Instead, his visor began to dim.

"Would you look at these scrapped Decepticons, dying on their own, in our territory." An old, rough voice pierced the fog of their minds and both snapped their helms up to see Autobots surrounding them. In front of them, with his gun leveled at their helms, was a sneering Ironhide. Behind him stood Optimus Prime, his optics gazing hard on their trespassers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Arc 1. I hope you enjoyed it, and get ready for things to start heading down the path the tags and title promise. I won't say how fast things move in that direction, other than heed the "slow burn" tag. It's not just about the pending relationship.


	11. Arc 2: Captured - Chapter 1

Prowl's optics cycled slowly as he assessed the situation. They had no chance of surviving this encounter.

Jazz thought the same thing, quietly saying to Prowl, "Guess it won't be a storm taking us out."

Ironhide replied first. "That's right, Decepticreep. I'm going to be the one taking you out."

"Now wait a moment, Ironhide," another voice from the sides interrupted. Jazz and Prowl turned their helms and saw a red-and-white medic with a grey chevron. "These two are in no shape to argue in defense of themselves."

"What are you talking about, Ratchet? They are clearly the Cons that attacked our energon mine. Do you know how much energon we lost? How many were injured?"

Optimus Prime put his hand on Ironhide's shoulder. "Ratchet does have a point. Everyone should have a chance to speak on their behalf. The most immediate pressing matter is not to have a trial here, but for us to know who they are."

"I know who they are," a green Autobot said, flicking his optics briefly at Prime before resuming his watch on the Decepticons. "They’re Jazz, the second-in-command of Special Ops, and Prowl, the second-in-command of Tactical."

Ironhide's optics widened. "You sure about that, Hound?"

"As sure as I am that you're Ironhide."

"Then no trial needed; I'm going to be happy to execute them."

Prime squeezed Ironhide's shoulder. "No, Ironhide. We'll take them back to base, let Ratchet patch them up, and then keep them as prisoners. After we interrogate them, we’ll trade them for captured Autobots."

Hound’s optics brightened and he straightened up. Jazz noted the hopeful look, but it was for something the Autobot didn’t voice.

Ironhide grunted in agreement but didn't lower his gun. "You heard your commander, Autobots. Tie these two up."

Ratchet drawled, "That's not necessary. Unless I give them medical energon rations, they will be in stasis before we arrive on base."

"I'm taking no chances. Tie them up. Cliffjumper, you can do the honors. Make sure to bind them so they can’t claw themselves free. I see claw seams on their hands."

“ _After_ I give them a sip or two of medical energon,” Ratchet interjected. “I’d rather give them energon here, then pull their sorry afts out of stasis later.”

Jazz wasn’t going to give into capture so easily. “I’d rather be a pain for you in stasis then take your energon.” His words were muffled to his hearing, but he was fairly sure he spoke clearly, loudly, and spitefully.

Prowl added, “Same for me.”

Ratchet groaned with irritation. “Then I’m tapping feeding lines into your energon veins.”

“I’ll fight you.” Jazz put his fists up but they wavered and fell limp.

Ratchet snorted. “You have spunk, I’ll give you that. Hide, if you want something to do in the meantime, call for a lift.”

They tried resisting and Autobots surrounded Ratchet, easily subduing the weak Decepticons. Ratchet was able to easily tap a line into their veins, and gave them just enough to make it to Medbay for initial assessment. He wrapped new bandages around Jazz’s bleeding arm.

“There,” the medic said as he removed the lines, “they’re ready for transportation.”

Ironhide checked his commlink. “Transportation will be here in two breems. Cliff, tie them up.”

Two breems later a medium-sized, grey transportation plane landed outside the houses. Ironhide pointed to several Autobots. “Load them up.”

Autobots that the pair didn’t recognize roughly hauled them up, and marched them into the plane. Prowl stumbled repeatedly until he tumbled into the wall-mounted seats. Unforgiving hands grabbed him and reset him into a proper sitting position. Jazz joined him with less effort from the Autobots. Ironhide sat across from them, joined by two others, and they had their guns leveled at the two Decepticons.

Jazz flexed his tied hands. “This is going to be fun.”

“Shut up,” Ironhide growled.

Jazz raised his hands to mime his mouth being zipped shut. He winked with his visor.

“Why you cocky son-of-a-gun…”

“Ironhide,” Optimus said from the front, turning his helm to look back. “Do not let them goad you into losing your temper, my friend.”

Ironhide grumbled, “Yes, Prime.”

Ratchet added, “You can, however, dream of offlining them in as many different ways as you want on our trip back.”

The flight wasn’t as silent as Jazz or Prowl expected, both assuming that their presence would damper the mood. Instead, the Autobot soldiers laughed with each other and occasionally hurled insults at the Decepticons. Neither responded to the insults, save an occasional smirk from Jazz. He wasn’t going to push Ironhide’s limits by taunting the soldiers back, beyond the smirk. Some intelligence was required when captured, after all.

“We’re nearly there,” the pilot announced.

“Land on the Medbay air pad. We’ll want to take our prisoners straight there,” Prime directed.

“Yes, sir.”

Jazz finally spoke, this time to Ratchet. “So we’re going to get nice, comfy medical berths? ‘Cause I’ve got some aching joints.”

Ratchet spoke over Ironhide’s remark for them to keep their traps shut. “You’re going to the prisoner rooms inside Medbay. They’re standard berths, so they’re comfortable enough.”

Jazz pouted but said nothing more. He had hoped the Autobots were fools enough to put him in a regular Medbay berth, and only restrain him with ties. Then he could break free once the more important repairs were done and steal the plane. He’d have to wait to evaluate the rooms once he saw them, and perhaps escape.


End file.
